


Jesse McCree: How He Got His BAMF Buckle, and Why He Still Wears It

by NemoTheSurvivor



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: BAMFs, Best Friends, Brotherly Jesse McCree, Gen, Platonic Female/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NemoTheSurvivor/pseuds/NemoTheSurvivor
Summary: Ever wonder how McCree got his iconic belt buckle, and why he chooses to wear such a ridiculous thing? Well, it's an interesting story, and intertwines with the friendship between McCree and the daughter of a certain legendary sniper. Story inspired by Thanks, Dad. Love, Hana, by Snowsheba.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [thanks, dad. love, hana](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7328341) by [Snowsheba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowsheba/pseuds/Snowsheba). 



McCree leaned forward in his chair. The hole in his stomach bothered him, but he survived worse back when he was a Deadlock. The bullet wound wasn't worth seeing a doctor. As he sat still, eyes closed, someone said, "Hello." McCree jerked up, wincing in pain, looking for the owner of the voice. A little girl, about preteen in age, looked at him. She looked familiar, but McCree couldn't place where he'd seen her before.

"Hey there," McCree said, sitting up straight. "We met before?"

"No," the girl said.

"Then, you lost or sumthin'?" McCree asked, confused.

"No," the girl said. She sat down next to McCree, unfazed by his stare.

McCree sighed as he looked around the Egyptian Watchpoint, seeing if anyone was currently looking for a missing child. Surprisingly, nobody was. McCree turned to the girl and asked, "Then what're you doin' here?"

"My mom works here," the girl said. McCree grunted in response. "What's your name?"

"Jesse," McCree said, tipping his hat. "Jesse McCree."

"I'm Fareeha." The girl stuck out her hand.

McCree shook it. "Nice to meet you," he said. "Now, could you leave me alone?"

"Why?" Fareeha asked.

"I'm just sore and tired," McCree said.

"Where does it hurt?" Fareeha asked.

"It's just a headache," McCree lied, lowering his hat over his eyes. "I was hopin' to get some sleep."

"I can help," Fareeha said, getting on her knees. "Let me massage your temples." She started leaning over McCree as she reached for each side of his head.

"Hey, that's not–" McCree ended the sentence with a grunt of pain as Fareeha accidently kneed his wound.

"What's wrong?" Fareeha asked. She ended up leaning against McCree, placing her hand on the edge of his armor. McCree watched as her hand recoiled, fresh blood on her fingers. "Mom!" Fareeha yelled immediately, jumping up and running off. "Musaeada! Musaeada!"

McCree watched as Ana Amari of all people immediately ran to Fareeha, Reyes right behind her. Fareeha started talking and pointing towards McCree. "Shit," he mumbled as Amari marched right towards him. "Is that your kid?" McCree asked.

"Armor off," Amari ordered, ignoring him.

"It's nothing serious," McCree said. "Honest."

Fareeha asked Amari something in Arabic, and Amari responded softly in kind, gently pushing the child toward Reyes. Reyes, after shooting McCree a look between aggravated and disappointed, grabbed Fareeha's hand, leading the child away. Amari then turned towards McCree. "Take it off," she ordered. "Now."

"C'mon," McCree said, waving her way. "You're making a scene."

Amari placed her hands on McCree's shoulders, leaning on him. "Would I be making a scene if you weren't bleeding?" she asked. McCree, speechless, hung his head. Amari gently pulled McCree's armor off. She made a sound between a growl and a gasp when she saw the bullet hole. "McCree, this is a serious injury. Anything that can get through your armor needs to be seen as soon as possible."

"It's fine," McCree said. "Really. Ain't nuthin' I haven't survived before."

Amari spoke in Arabic as she ordered several people around, tossing McCree's armor to the side. Two agents brought a stretcher over. Amari pointed to it as she said, "Either you're getting on that yourself, or I'm going to tie you to it and drag you to the infirmary. Your choice."

"I ain't gettin' on there without a fight," McCree said, standing. Amari sighed, shaking her head, before taking out her sidearm and putting McCree to sleep.

* * *

When McCree woke up, Reyes was waiting for him. He lectured McCree, coving subjects such as seeing a doctor when seriously wounded, scarring young children like Fareeha, and disrespecting the Second-in-Command of Overwatch, Ana Amari. Then, he ordered McCree to spend the night in the infirmary. It was probably the worst night in McCree's life, since he was sure it was more of a punishment than anything. To top it off, he was suspended from field work for the next month until his wounds healed completely.

The next morning, McCree grumbled to himself as he left the infirmary. As he turned to walk towards the barracks, he noticed Fareeha laying down on a bench, asleep and alone. McCree shook his head when he passed her, but stopped before passing the bench. Sighing, he sat down next to Fareeha and gently shook her. "Hey," McCree said. "You s'posed to be sleepin'?"

Fareeha woke up slowly, sitting up and yawning. "Good morning," she said. "How'd you sleep?"

"About as well as anyone can when they're surrounded by doctors," McCree said. He gestured to the bench as he asked, "What're you doin' here anyway?"

"Waiting for you, actually," Fareeha said. "I'm sorry."

McCree shot Fareeha a confused glance. "Now what are you apologizin' to me for?"

"I got you in trouble," Fareeha said, looking down as she twiddled her hands. "Mr. Reyes was pretty mad at you."

McCree sighed. "Don't beat yourself up, kid," he said, patting her shoulder. "They'd've found me out eventually. You just beat them to the punch. 'Sides, he was just upset that I scared you."

"I wasn't scared," Fareeha said defiantly. "I was just worried you were dying."

McCree blinked once. Earning the admiration of a child by ignoring a doctor wasn't something he expected. "Well, at least you did the right thing," McCree said, unsure of how to respond. He patted Fareeha's shoulder twice before going to stand.

"Wait!" Fareeha exclaimed, grabbing McCree's wrist. "Let me make it up to you."

"Ain't nuthin' to make up," McCree said.

"Please?" Fareeha asked, giving McCree puppy dog eyes.

McCree inwardly cursed before saying, "Okay, fine." He sat back down. "How're you goin' to make it up to me?"

"I dunno," Fareeha said. She thought for a moment. "How about a present?"

"A present, huh?" McCree mused. "Sure. What're you getting me?"

"What do you want?" Fareeha asked.

McCree rubbed his chin, wondering what a child would be able to get him. "How about a belt buckle?" McCree asked.

"Okay!" Fareeha exclaimed. She jumped up before running down the halls.

"Strange kid," McCree said, standing and shaking his head. He walked off, starting to wander aimlessly through the base.

* * *

Several days into his suspension from duty, McCree was sprawled on a bench against the wall, hat over his eyes, as he tried to nap in the armory. He was rudely interrupted by something landing on his chest. "What the–" McCree started to say, stopping when he saw Amari standing over him.

"Fareeha wanted to give you a gift," Amari said, gesturing towards the box on his chest. "I decided to help."

"How about that," McCree said. He opened the small box before pulling out a giant belt buckle with the letters BAMF engraved on the front.

"Do you like it?" Amari asked. McCree figured that Fareeha probably just told her mother what to get, then Amari handled the rest. Judging from how ridiculous the buckle was, it certainly seemed like one of Amari's gift.

"Seems like I need another notch on my belt," McCree said, noticing how large the buckle was compared to his current one.

"Before you start messing with your pants," Amari said, "let me set some ground rules. Rule one, no talking about Deadlock or Blackwatch without my permission. Rule two, no swearing, period. Rule three, you are going to see a doctor after every mission. No ifs, ands, or buts. I'll drag you in if I have to."

"What are you talkin' about?" McCree asked.

"If you are going to be hanging around Fareeha, you are going to follow these rules," Amari said.

"Now who said I wanted to hang around your daughter?" McCree asked, sitting up.

"I don't think she'll give you much of a choice," Amari said, grinning.

"Well, tell her I'm a bad influence or sumthin'!" McCree exclaimed.

"Are you really a bad influence, Jesse McCree?" Amari asked. McCree opened his mouth, but shut it immediately. "My daughter is going to be staying with me for the forseeable future, and I would like it if she had someone her age to talk to." McCree was a couple years older than Fareeha, but compared to everyone else in Overwatch, the two were pretty close in age. "Besides, if she's with you, I don't have to pay for a babysitter." Amari turned around and started to leave. She spun her head back and added, "Oh, and she'll be with us during every training session from now on. Including today's. See you on the range at 1500." She waved goodbye as she left the room.

McCree watched as Amari left, mouth open. "Aw hell," he said after a moment, shaking his head.

* * *

"You two play nice," Amari said, waving as she left the shooting range.

"Bye!" Fareeha yelled, waving. She turned towards McCree. "Did you like the belt buckle we got you?"

McCree, who was stunned by Amari's revelation that she had a meeting with Morrison and Reyes, continued to stare at the door. "Huh?" he asked.

"The buckle," Fareeha said. "Do you like it?"

McCree nodded and said, "Sure do. Have to get a new belt to use it though."

"My mom said it suited you," Fareeha said, giving McCree a childish grin.

"Did she now?" McCree asked, over exaggerating when he tilted his head.

"Yep," Fareeha said. "She said, 'This buckle reminds me of McCree. Too big to be useful and full of pointless bravado.' I asked her if that meant you'd like it, and she said that you would."

"Of course she did," McCree mumbled.

The stood in silence for a couple of minutes. Amari still didn't come back. "Jesse," Fareeha asked after another couple of minutes, "what does BAMF mean?"

"BAMF?" McCree repeated.

"Yeah," Fareeha said. "I don't know what the word means."

McCree chuckled. "It's not a word," he said. "It's an acronym. It stands for bad a–" When McCree said "bad," he felt a whisper of death creep up his neck, almost as if Amari had her sniper trained on him and was just waiting for him to say the curse word. McCree's life depended on him not swearing. He held the vowel for a second before continuing "–at making friends." McCree nodded as the whisper of death disappeared. "BAMF means bad at making friends."

"Oh," Fareeha said. "Now I understand why my mom though it fit you."

McCree groaned, rubbing his forehead with one hand, as Fareeha laughed. "Oh, you think you're funny, huh?" McCree asked. Fareeha nodded. _She probably knew what BAMF meant_ , McCree thought as Fareeha nodded her head. _She was just trying to get me in trouble again. There's no doubt she's Amari's kid._

"Hey, Jesse," Fareeha asked, dragging McCree out of his thoughts. Fareeha childish smile was replaced with both fear and envy. "Why does my mom like you?"

"What are you talkin' about?" McCree asked.

"I think everyone in Overwatch is so cool," Fareeha said, looking at the ground with her hands behind her back. "I want to be in Overwatch when I grow up, but my mom doesn't want me to join. But she likes training you, and talks about you all the time, and–"

 _Is she afraid of Amari abandoning her?_ McCree thought. _Then again, she never talks about her father. Amari never mentioned who that might be either. Probably why she doesn't want to lose her mother_. McCree put his hands on Fareeha's shoulders as he knelt down to speak to her face to face. "Look, kid, I'm not a good person," McCree said. "I've done a lot of bad things for bad people. And, even after all the bad I've done, your mother believes there's still somethin' in me worth savin'. She trains me day in and day out because she's hoping to make me a better man. Your mother doesn't have to do the same for you because you're already a good person." McCree stood, hands still on Fareeha. "She's teachin' you how to fight?" Fareeha nodded. "Then you ain't got nuthin' to worry about. I don't plan on takin' her away from you, and I don't think she'll ditch you for me neither. 'Sides, once you get old enough, you'll be able to do whatever you want."

Fareeha smiled as she looked up at McCree. "Can you promise me something?" she asked.

"Depends," McCree said.

"Promise me the two of us will be in Overwatch together," Fareeha said. "Please."

 _I don't think that's possible, kid_ , McCree wanted to say. _Either I'm in Overwatch and get arrested for the bounty on my head, or you're bad enough to be in Blackwatch, and I don't want to see you end up like me._ "Okay," McCree lied. "I promise." Fareeha bounced with joy before tackling McCree in a hug. McCree suppressed a grunt. "Man, your mother sure is takin' her sweet time," McCree said, gently pushing Fareeha off him. "How about I let you shoot Peacekeeper?"

"Really?" Fareeha asked.

"Sure," McCree said. "Get your protection on." Fareeha pulled the earmuff over her hears and put on her Overwatch brand shooting glasses. McCree did the same, but using earplugs instead. He handed Fareeha his revolver, making sure to keep the barrel downrange. Fareeha struggled to hold onto the large weapon, so McCree help her position her hands to hold it steady. Ready to shoot, Fareeha gave a thumbs up. McCree hovered his right hand over the revolver as training bots entered the range. After McCree returned the thumbs up, Fareeha took aim at a nearby bot. She fired, pegging the bot in the chest, though it was slightly off center. McCree caught the gun as it recoiled, preventing it from hitting the child in the head. Fareeha started laughing, loving the power behind the gun. She fired the remaining five shots, taking out two of the robots.

"This gun is amazing!" Fareeha yelled.

"We ain't done yet!" McCree responded, reaching for more bullets. As he did, he caught someone in the corner of his eye. Amari stood against a doorframe, earmuffs on. McCree turned to look at her fully, but stopped halfway. _I bet she knows Fareeha is afraid of losing her_ , McCree thought. _Amari probably wants us to get to know each other. Or she's thinks her daughter is torturing me. Either way, might as well humor her_. "You know how to load this thing?" McCree asked, handing Fareeha a handful of bullets.

"Yeah!" Fareeha yelled, loading the ammo into Peacemaker.

Amari let Fareeha fire almost forty rounds before finally interrupting the two. She tapped on Fareeha's shoulder, then asked, "Having fun?"

"Jesse let me shoot his gun!" Fareeha exclaimed, taking her earmuffs off.

"How nice of him," Amari said, flashing McCree a grin. He tipped his hat in response.

* * *

McCree opened up his computer. There was a waiting message from Fareeha. Knowing what it was about, McCree ignored the message and called her. Fareeha picked up within five seconds. "Hello, Jesse," she said when she appeared on screen, dressed in her Egyptian Military uniform.

"Hey darlin'," McCree said, tipping his hat.

The two stared at each other, both wanting the other to start the conversation. Fareeha finally broke the silence. "What's going on with Overwatch?" she asked.

"Ask Reinhardt," McCree said.

"I did," Fareeha said. "He said that he didn't know since he's retired." McCree didn't respond, not making eye contact. "Jesse, talk to me."

"I'd rather not," McCree said. "Nothing worth tellin', anyways."

"McCree," Fareeha said, "if you don't tell me, then I'll get my m–" Fareeha froze mid-sentence. The wounds were still fresh.

McCree sighed, knowing he should distract Fareeha from her memories. He said, "Alright, I'll talk. Morrison and Reyes are fighting each other, the UN is imposing more restrictions because of Blackwatch, and people are afraid things will collapse. I'm inclined to believe them."

"What are you talking about?" Fareeha asked, leaning towards the screen.

"Things between Reyes and Morrison are heatin' up," McCree said. "They lost their support the same time we did, and both of 'em have taken it hard. With all the new restrictions the UN is puttin' on us, they're at odds at every turn." McCree shook his head. "It ain't the same place we grew up in. That's why I'm leavin'."

"You're leaving?" Fareeha yelled. "When did you decide this?"

"Rein didn't tell you?" McCree asked.

"No!" Fareeha exclaimed. "Why are you leaving?"

"Fareeha," McCree said, trying to calm her down.

"Don't 'Fareeha' me!" she yelled. "I can't believe it. After everything Overwatch has done for you, after everything _she_ did for you, and you're just running away!"

"I tried, damn it!" McCree yelled. Fareeha jumped slightly, startled by the outburst. "I tried to do what she did. I tried to keep them in line. I _tried_ , and, and–" McCree sighed, letting the anger out with the breath. "I can't keep them from each other's throats. They don't want to listen to me. I'm not her, no matter how hard I try to be."

Fareeha didn't immediately respond. When she finally did her voice was soft. Understanding. "Jesse," she said, "you aren't a failure." McCree didn't respond. "Nobody expects you to fill her shoes. She's–" Fareeha paused. "My mother is dead, Jesse, and you can't change that." McCree slouched over, hiding his head. Silence again. "What are you going to do?"

"Not sure yet," McCree said, sitting up. "Though, it won't be anythin' official. Still got a bounty on my head, after all."

Fareeha sighed. "Jesse, if you need anything, do not be afraid to call me, okay?" She leaned towards the screen. "I mean it."

"I'll keep that in mind," McCree said.

"You promise?" Fareeha asked.

"It'd be hard not to," McCree said, angling the camera down. "You help keep my pants up, after all."

Fareeha looked away in disgust and asked, "Really, Jesse?"

"Just look at the dang screen," McCree said as he sighed.

Fareeha looked back at the screen, seeing the BAMF buckle. "I can't believe you're still wearing that," she said. McCree smiled as he lifted the camera. Fareeha returned the smile for a second. "I hope you're wrong," she said.

"Me too, darlin'," McCree said. He ended the call. "Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> Did Ana tell Fareeha to "go bother the sleepy cowboy" when Fareeha first visited Overwatch? Yes. Did Ana expect McCree to be hiding an injury, only to have it discovered when Fareeha got blood on her fingers? No. However, it was certainly a memorably start to a wonderful friendship.
> 
> This fic was inspired by [**thanks, dad. love, hana**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7328341) by [**Snowsheba**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowsheba). I highly recommend checking it out, as the story is a great exploration of D.Va and Dad 76 (not in a meme way either).
> 
> Headcannons (cause TDLH spoiled me on them):
> 
> -McCree is great with children, since he treats them how he wanted to be treated before he joined Deadlock.  
> -Ana tried several times to have McCree transferred out of Blackwatch. All attempts failed because he still had a bounty on his head, and would've been arrested should he be made a member of Overwatch proper.  
> -McCree and Pharah see each other as brother and sister. Because of this, Pharah will drop her militaristic demeanor when around McCree in private.  
> -After Ana's funeral, McCree and Pharah did not go to bed. Instead, they hugged each other, talking about all the good times the three had shared, before falling asleep in each other's arms.


End file.
